


Love Is A Many Splendored Thing

by PyroKlepto



Category: Psych
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Honeymoon, Lassiet - Freeform, and yes the title is a Grease reference, because Juliet and Carlton are absolutely Grease fans; it's canon, but mostly it's just fluff, just a bunch of cute and romantic fluff, newlyweds, rated t just to be safe, there will probably be serious moments because what are my fics without some serious moments, though everyone who knows me knows that I don't write smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 12:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6754300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyroKlepto/pseuds/PyroKlepto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlton and Juliet embark on their honeymoon. Juliet is putting together a scrapbook of memories, starting from the first time they met and up until now. Carlton pretends to be annoyed by all the photos she snaps of him on their vacation at a beach resort. (Secretly he enjoys every minute of it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Is A Many Splendored Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is more or less what the summary says. Carlton and Juliet were married; this is a series of 'snapshots' into their honeymoon, and their first experiences of marriage. It's a very fluffy fic; there will probably be serious moments, because most of my stories have those, but this is an overall happy and laid-back story. It's based off a photoset of Timothy Omundson and Maggie Lawson that I found once, which you can see here: http://hell-yeah-timothy-omundson.tumblr.com/post/142148293607/timothyomundsonpsych-timothy-maggie
> 
> That's about all I have to say! Feel free to leave feedback! This might extend into a collection of one-shots featuring little adventures they go on during their marriage, or I might just stick to the six or so chapters based off each of the pictures in the photoset. We'll see. Enjoy!

Lassiter couldn’t quite believe it. 

Then again, he couldn’t believe any of it. After proposing, everything had stopped seeming real and more as though he walked in a perpetual dreamworld, and would snap awake at any moment.

But he hadn’t been jolted awake. Not in the few months off work the chief had given him to allow him to help plan the wedding.

Not during the search for a proper outfit to wear. (He had eventually settled on a white tuxedo with a red flower in the lapel.)

Not in the days leading up to the wedding.

Not while he stood at the altar.

Not while watching the most beautiful, sunny-hearted woman in the entire damn world walk down the aisle.

Not during the celebration afterward.

And now, near the airport with Juliet - his partner; his _wife_ \- he still didn’t wake up. And if it were a dream… God, he hoped he never woke up.

“Carlton!”

Lassiter glanced sideways. “Hm?”

Juliet grinned up at him, making him swear that she had somehow ingested part of the sun. “Let’s take a picture.” She took his hand - which she had only just dropped a few moments before - and intertwined her fingers with his. 

“Wha--now?” Lassiter blinked.

“Yes, now. Come on. We’re almost at the airport; then when we get inside, we’ll be picking up our luggage and trying to find our flight, and we won’t have time. I want a picture for our scrapbook.”

“We have a scrapbook?” Lassiter arched an eyebrow, small smile playing across his face. “Since when?”

“Since now!” Juliet chirped, tilting her head back with a slightly cheeky expression. “Sort of. I just have to buy one. But we still need pictures for it!”

“Only on one condition. That the only pictures we put in it are of scenery or your face,” Lassiter quipped.

She slapped his shoulder. “No, we are putting pictures of your face in it too whether you like it or not. I _will_ sneak photos, don’t think I won’t.”

Lassiter scoffed, feigning annoyance. He could tell that her eyes were sparkling mischievously, despite the fact they were hidden behind sunglasses. “Fine. You and your sentimental nonsense,” he said, slipping his phone out of his pocket.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Juliet remarked. “Also like you didn’t say some of the sweetest, most heartfelt, touching things I’ve ever heard last night during the wedding.” She let go of his hand so she could place her hand on his shoulder and stand up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. And then giggled. “That tickles.” 

Lassiter gave a quiet huff of laughter himself. “Fine, I’ll shave,” he retorted, pretending to be offended. “And here I thought you liked my stubble.”

“Oh, stop. You know I do.” She leaned against him for a moment, stroking a thumb across the stubble on his jawline. “Now are you going to take the picture, or are you going to stall so we end up missing our flight?”

“Hold your horses, hotshot,” Lassiter said, navigating his phone. “Here.” He shifted the pack he carried to one shoulder and held the phone out. He could see the both of them on the screen, and kept one thumb poised over the button that would take the picture. “Stop playing around, or your first scrapbook photo is going to be of you busy messing with my face.” 

She lowered the hand she had been cupping his face in. “All right, all right. Now who needs to hold their horses?” She looked at him through the camera - or rather, at his face on the screen beside hers - and pouted in a joking manner.

And Lassiter pressed his thumb down, snapping the photo.

“Did you just take the--Carlton!”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t worry. You were cute, as always.”

“You didn’t even smile!” She poked him in the ribs, and her voice betrayed that she didn’t mind much at all - in fact, the tone she spoke with let him know that she did like the picture.

“I pull off the stoic, silent look far better.” He slipped the phone into his pocket. “Now let’s go, before we’re late.” He kissed the crown of her head and shifted his bag to the other shoulder again.

She heaved an exaggerated sigh, but then hooked her arm through his as they continued their walk to the airport. After a while, they were on the plane. 

Lassiter secretly wondered why they hadn’t simply taken the bus - they had decided to stay in California for their honeymoon, and were only going across the state. But then again, bus rides were… distasteful, to say the least.

So the plane it was, then. He didn’t mind it terribly much - if only because the sun through the window fell upon Juliet and made it look like she was glowing. When they weren’t talking about everything and nothing in particular, Lassiter found himself unabashedly staring at her.

Before too long - they weren’t traveling all that far, after all - they landed at their destination, and made the short trip to the resort they were going to be staying at. Lassiter rearranged their bags in a more convenient location than where the bellhop had put them, and calmly walked around the perimeter of the room.

“You’re off-duty, Carlton,” Juliet teased, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Yes, I am.” He stepped onto the balcony, surveying the area before returning inside and crossing the room to press a kiss to her lips. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop keeping an eye out for threats.”

“I doubt there’s any bombs or stalkers hiding in our room,” Juliet remarked, making a content humming sound at his lips against hers.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to be sure.” Lassiter poked her ribs, eliciting a giggle, before sitting down and leaning his shoulder against hers. “So. Do you want to go out for dinner, or order room service?”

“Room service.” She spoke from around a yawn. “It’s cosier in here. Besides, I’d much rather spend supper with just you.” She grinned.

“Room service it is then.” He rose to his feet and reached for the phone, smile playing across his lips. He picked up the phone, punching in the number for room service and rocking back and forth on his heels. Just as they answered, two arms wrapped around his torso, and warm breath tickled his ear.

For the next few minutes, Lassiter attempted to order dinner without letting the man on the other end of the phone know just how distracted he was by Juliet’s soft kisses to his neck. More than once, he trailed off into silence, eventually prompting the employee on the other line to ask if he was still there.

Lassiter hung up the phone about five minutes later, finally letting out a slightly trembling sigh - then he turned around and wrapped Juliet in an embrace that kept her arms pinned to her sides.

“Hey, not fair!” She struggled in vain, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Neither was trying to _distract_ me while I attempted to order us dinner,” Lassiter retorted, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “Unless you’re not hungry. We haven’t really eaten since this morning, though.”

“You know, you could have easily turned the phrase _unless you’re not hungry_ into a flirtation, Carlton.” Juliet hummed under her breath, a sound both amused and teasing. He still held her with her arms pinned, and could feel the vibrations of the noise go through him.

“Really?” The tone alluded to the implication that he had already known that, when in reality it had completely slipped his mind. To make up for his lack of ability to flirt - in some cases - he peppered kisses across a section of Juliet’s neck.

She giggled. “That tickles…!” 

Because he was nothing less than difficult, Lassiter stopped kissing her altogether, instead opting to very lightly brush his stubbly cheek against her neck, much like a cat. 

Her giggling became more shrill and her struggling became fiercer. “Carlton! Not fair…!” 

They wrestled for control, toppling sideways onto the bed. Eventually, both of them ended up on the floor - with Lassiter pinned beneath Juliet. 

“How the hell…?” 

“Magic.” Juliet perched triumphantly on top of him, sitting on his chest.

“Ge’ off,” Lassiter grunted, swatting at her. 

“Mmm… no.” Juliet slid her hand under his shirt and patted his stomach. “I’m comfortable right here.” 

“Someone needs to get up when room service arrives."

Juliet was reaching into her purse. “They’re not here yet.” With that, she took her phone and snapped a picture of him.

“O’Hara!”

“Honeymoon scrapbook photos!”

“I looked ridiculous.”

She leaned down to kiss the tip of his nose, causing his brow to wrinkle. “You looked handsome.” 

Lassiter started to protest - only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

Juliet frowned, looking displeased by the sudden interruption. Lassiter took her momentary distraction as an opportunity to buck his hips upward, effectively dislodging Juliet. He jumped to his feet before she could pin him again, brushing himself off. Then he flashed her a supercilious smile and hurried to the door, opening it.

“Room service.” The hotel employee stood behind a cart, looking rather nervous. Judging by how immaculate and new his uniform appeared, he was most likely a very recent addition to hotel staff. Hence the anxious demeanour.

“Come on in.” Lassiter opened the door further and backed away, allowing the young man to push the cart inside.

It was only a few moments before the boy was tipped and the room empty, save for the newlyweds and the cart of food. Lassiter glanced at Juliet, trying to guess what her next move would be. That was difficult, since she still stood beside the bed, watching him.

“Well, are we going to stare at each other for the rest of the night or are we going to eat…?” Lassiter asked, arching an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with an amused expression that made it seem like she was wondering how in the world she had ended up married to such a ridiculous man. “All right, all right, you hungry hungry hippo. Let’s eat.” 

“I take offence to that. I’m nowhere near as heavy as a hippo.” Lassiter gave an exaggerated huff of annoyance, starting to uncover dishes of food and get dinner ready.

“No, you’re a beanpole and should probably eat more,” Juliet remarked.

“I eat plenty. I just have a high metabolism,” Lassiter scoffed. 

“Rub it in. Just keep rubbing it in,” Juliet said, sitting down with her food. 

Lassiter sat down beside her, shrugging. “What can I say. I’m gifted.”

“And humble, I see.”

“Always. The humblest man you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting.” Lassiter took a bite of his salad. 

Juliet shook her head but didn’t press the joking argument any further, instead turning the conversation to other more mundane things, such as how pretty everything had looked from the window of the plane. Lassiter let her talk, mainly because he had been paying much more attention to her than the surroundings outside of the airplane, and as such couldn’t really comment on them.

And it might just have been dinner in a room at a resort, talking about everything and nothing at all - but Lassiter felt like this was what heaven might be like.

 

“Carlton…?” 

“Mmh…?” Lassiter blinked his eyes open, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. He didn’t really need to; even if he couldn’t see Juliet, he could feel her - soft hair falling across his bare chest, head resting above his heart, one hand intertwining fingers with his own.

“This is real, right?” Juliet shifted slightly, curling closer to him under the blankets, hand grasping his just a little tighter. “It’s not a dream.”

_I hope not._

“Well, use your head, O’Hara.” The words were gruff, but the undertones were teasing. “Do I feel real to you?” He carded his fingers through her hair, and then leaned down to kiss the crown of her head.

“Yes…” She laughed quietly, nuzzling the juncture between his neck and his shoulder.

“Okay, then. Why’d you ask?” Lassiter’s eyes were drifting shut again, though he continued to absentmindedly stroke her hair.

“Hard to know what’s real anymore… never can know… what’s true and what’s just a distortion of reality…” Her words were trailing off, voice becoming drowsier by the moment. 

“I’m very real.” Lassiter shifted his position just slightly, to make it more comfortable for the both of them. “Now go to sleep. Real people need rest.” 

He couldn’t quite hear her giggle, the sound muffled, but he felt it against his chest. Before long, Juliet’s breathing evened out, deepening a bit more. 

Sure now that she wasn’t going to ask another question or attempt to speak with him again, Lassiter let his guard down. He moved his arm to drape it over Juliet’s form, and allowed sleep to overtake him as well, enveloped safely in warmth and the scent of peaches.


End file.
